You Can Leave Your Hat On
by littlewittle
Summary: "As she looks up, just in cue to her song, I grip onto the empty table next to me. Ray, the stripper, is the girl from my building."
1. Let Me Put on a Show For You, Tiger

**A/N: I know I'm still working on Symphony and I have to update the chapters, but I got this idea stuck in my head and I decided it would be better to just write this down.**

* * *

I don't like taking out the trash, not really. It smells, it makes your hand feel sticky sometimes, and you have to change off your pajamas to go outside. But you have to do it, so you go outside, throw it in the trash can and then run back inside the apartment, at least that's what I do.

I'm writing, typing furiously on my laptop when I hear Puck shout from behind me for me to go take out the trash. I make a stupid joke about him being the one who should do it, since he takes out a lot of trashy girls, so he slaps the back of my head and I know that I have to go now, before he gets prissy. I put on a shirt, grab the trash bags and open the door with my elbow, shutting it with my foot and heading towards the trash cans, hoping to get back to my writing as soon as possible.

As I throw the plastic bags in the cans, I hear someone coming up behind me with light, feather-like steps. I turn around and I see her for the first time.

Brown hair, olive skin, chocolate eyes and a petite frame, she doesn't even notice I'm there, humming along to something she's listening on her iPod and swaying her hips to the song, making me run my hands on my mouth to make sure I'm not drooling. She throws her trash on the garbage can as well and finally, takes off her headphones, looking up at me with a soft gaze. She offers me a small nod and begins going through her songs, and I can't help myself, peeking from behind her shoulders and saying:

"You have a lot of classical rock there, I like it." I can't even help myself, I just say it before I realize it and I immediately begin blushing as she looks at me, her eyes wide as she examines my face, probably wondering who this creep is and why is he talking to her.

But instead of spraying something on my face, she lets out a small giggle and I find myself replaying the sound on my head, later on. She puts her headphones back on and begins walking away, looking at me from over her shoulder with a small smile, and I find endearing that her cheeks are flushed, just like my own as she stares at me for the last time, walking into the elevator.

And I don't think about anything else for the rest of the day.

**xXx**

Puck has been annoying me for a week now, saying that if I want to turn twenty one the way men do, I have to go through the _"ritual"._

For those who don't know, Noah Puckerman, also known as Puck, has been my best friend ever since we were four, when he pushed a kid off the swings because he had called my mother a _"pooper";_ which, if you think about now, it's stupid, but it meant a lot when a guy called your mom a pooper when you were four.

Point is, we went through a lot together: pre-school, high school and now, college. We share an apartment with Sam Evans, another friend of ours from high school, and Puck had been there for me since the beginning, through the bad stuff and the good stuff and I owed him a lot, but the _"ritual"_? It was too much to ask.

"Dude, stop being such a pussy!" Puck says as he pats my back one day, during lunch. "What's the matter with our plans?" He asks through a mouthful of turkey sandwich. I glance up at him and scoff at how disgusting he looks, with a small lettuce hanging from his lips.

"Shit, clean up, dude. You eat like my three year old cousin." He flips me the finger and Sam laughs, shaking his head. "The problem with the plans is that I don't want to get wasted, go to a strip club and have you guys there, taking photos of it to send them to my mother or something." I say simply.

Sam shakes his head. "Not true! We were gonna send them to your aunt, so that _she _could show them to your mother. Can you imagine it? It would be hilarious!" He high-fives Puck and laughs, ignoring the way I'm glaring at him.

"Listen, I'm putting my foot down, this is my _final _answer: I am _not _going to a strip club on my birthday."

**xXx**

They take me to a strip club on my birthday.

I drink a lot that night, six to eight beers and they even film me singing on Kurt's, my brother, karaoke machine. I'm thrown on the couch when Puck proposes, even so discreetly, that we should head to the strip club and _see what happens. _I'm so inebriated that I agree, throwing my hands in the air and saying "let's do it!" excitedly.

Sam is driving while Puck and I sing Don't Stop Believing in the backseat of the car while Rory laughs, filming it all on his iPhone.

"You filming that, man?" Sam asks with a chuckle and Rory nods.

"How could I not?"

We get to the club ten minutes later, Puck leading the way as he greets the security guard and apparently, he is very well known here. We enter the place and take a double look at it: it's red walls, flashing lights, naked girls and blasting music just screams _sex _and so we take a seat near the stage, since Puck claims he needs to get a better view of the "performers". Puck nudges me on the side and tells us that the show is about to get good.

The first one to enter the stage is a girl with dark skin, large boobs and pouty lips, and we all notice the way Sam's eyes are laying on her and nothing else. She dances to Push It, by Salt 'N Pepa and though Puck, Rory and I laugh at the song selection, Sam seems to find it sexy and he gets up from his seat, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, waving it in front of Puck's face and saying something about getting lucky, making us laugh. She finishes her performance and Sam is waiting by the stage, helping her off it and murmuring something about a private dance, so she grins and takes his head, leading him outside. We only see him the day after, when he gets home smelling like sex and booze.

The next one to disappear is Rory. He goes to the bar and orders a drink and somehow, ends up with his hands all over the bartender girl, Sugar; who, despite her name, isn't a stripper, just a regular bartender who has to wear tiny clothing for work. I can't seem to understand how, but the Sugar girl actually wants Rory to spend the night with her, so he decides to wait for her to finish her shift.

So, by now, the only ones sitting on our table are Puck and I and when a blonde girl with small breasts and green eyes comes over to him and begins rubbing her ass to his crotch, I'm done, getting up from the table and heading outside, needing to breathe some fresh air.

However, as I open the door that allows me outside, I stand before the stage, eyes wide as I see a small figure forming through the shadows. I hear the DJ speak, though I ignore it, trying to figure out the feeling of seeing this girl before.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, our little sweetheart: the starlet of McKinley Ladies, _Ray!_" I can hear some men cheering, some applauding enthusiastically and I can understand why, the girl's body, at least from what I can see, is amazing. She really _is _the star of the place, it seems.

The small figure makes itself visual now, coming up from behind the dark part of the stage to the spotlight, holding onto a small chair and straddling it, looking down and letting her hair cover her face as she waits for the music to begin. While she does so, I examine her body and though I haven't been much of a guy to judge girls for their bodies, this one certainly gained my attention: unlike the other girls from here, she has small, perky breasts, that are covered by a lacy, black corset and matching panties, which are held in place by tight stocking that begin just above her knees and end on her feet, not to mention the delicious fuck-me heels she has on - _oh, this girl is danger._

I want to tear my gaze away from her, to get out of here because I'm feeling drunk, stupid and horny and this cannot end well, but as she looks up, just in cue to her song, I grip onto the empty table next to me.

Ray, _the stripper_, is the girl from my building.

**xXx**

She dances like no one else, she looks like a pro, probably because she is, but that is not the point. She is gracious on her small feet, even though she spots those monster heels on her feet. She twirls around the chair, straddling it and throwing her head back, moving her body in sync to the song and I just want to touch her, to run my hands through the lace of her lingerie, to set her free from those stocking and have my way with her right on that stage. The alcohol is getting to me, but I don't care because I need her, I need her badly and I need her now.

She moves around the stage, swaying her hips as Big Spender by Peggy Lee plays on the background and even though she is a stripper, she looks so classy, so - and I hate my mind for thinking this - expensive.

Ray, if that's her real name, finishes her song, now in nothing but the panties and the stocking she began to dance with, her corset thrown on the stage long ago, her dark nipples contrasting with the white spotlight. She is too perfect to be here, to be on this stage. She takes a bow, the first "performer" around here to do so and leaves the stage, going to the backstage, probably getting ready to leave.

I panic, because I need to know who is this girl, what's her name, where does she live, does she really live on my building? I need answers so, in a blink of an eye, I grab a nameless waitress by the wrist softly, getting her attention. She smirks at me, battling her eyelashes as she speaks.

"What can I do for you, sugar?"

My voice is shy, low as I speak. "I need to know... How to um, how to request a private dance." I feel so dirty, disgusting, but I don't mind, because the end justifies the means, doesn't it? At least I've heard.

"Oh." She smirks even wider, as if she's staring at a freak, which I'm not. I am not a freak. "Well, you just go to that guy over there," She points at a man with crossed arms, standing by the stage with a mean look on his face. "And you tell him who you'd like to entertain you. It's really simple." She nods and walks away as I thank her.

I head towards the stage, ready to talk to the man who was pointed to me, but suddenly, I see the girl- no, _the woman_ I've had my eye on for a while now leaving the stage, her hair tied in a high ponytail and her body wrapped by a robe. She looks beautiful, even with her clothes on.

I head towards her and touch her shoulder, but the guy who stood by the stage makes me drop my hand instantly, holding me tightly under his grip, though at least now, I have her attention. She looks at me, eyes wide and I'm sure she doesn't remember me, but feels sorry for the way the man is hurting me, so she reaches for the guy, touching his shoulder.

"Tyler, it's okay, it's just a client." She tells him and her voice is sweet like honey, and the security guard drops me from his grip, letting go of me completely. She presses her small hand to my chest and smiles.

"Are you okay?" Ray asks, pushing me away from the guard and the stage, leading us both to a dark corner of the bar.

"I'm fine, just..." I shrug, grinning softly. "I kind of wanted to ask for a... Private dance." I mutter the last part so quietly; surprised that she can hear it. She bites her lip, curling her small fingers around my index one, smiling and staring at me from beneath her lashes.

"Is this your first time here?" I simply nod, not being able to look at her in the eyes. She giggles softly and I know she isn't laughing at me, so I smile. "C'mon. I'll make it very special for you, boy." Ray says, pulling me by the hand and leading me to a room that is hidden behind curtains, so I can only assume this is what they call the "private rooms".

She leans me back on a red armchair and I look at her, eyes wide as she smirks, toying with her robe. "Any special requests?"

I gulp, trying to find the words on my brain. "Your name."

She stops, frowning. "What?"

"Your name." I repeat dumbly.

She stares at me, not sure if she's hearing things right as she runs her fingers on the knot that holds her robe together. "My name?" She seems apprehensive. "W-why would you want to know that?"

I shrug. "I've been wondering it for a while now." Ray frowns.

"A while now? I thought this was your first time here?" She asks, her hands resting on her curvy hips.

"Yeah, my first time here, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen you before." Realizing I sound like a creep, I sit up immediately, trying to cover my mistake. "I'm not a _stalker_ or anything, if that's what it sounds like! It's just that, see, I've seen you on my building when I was taking out the trash and..."

She snaps her fingers together and I see a new brightness in her eyes. "Oh, you're the trash guy! The tall one who was giving me the eye! I remember you!" She grins softly. "Didn't take you for a strip club fan, Tall Guy."

I shake my head, the fact that she still hasn't told me her name already forgotten in my mind. "I'm not, I swear! It's my 21th birthday, so my friends decided to-"

"Wait a minute." She interrupts me, walking closer to me with wolfish eyes. "It's your birthday?" She is straddling me now; her tanned, delicious legs rest each one beside my knees as her sharp nails run up and down my chest, making him freeze.

"Yes." I mutter quietly, feeling my pants tightening at the view I get of her chest; and suddenly, I'm thinking about all these disgusting, not sexy images, trying my best to um, behave.

"Well, that asks for a special song then, Tall Guy."

"It's Finn, actually. Finn Hudson." I correct her. She nods and gets off my lap, biting her lower lip and winking at me as she gets on the small stage that rests on the center of the private room.

"Well Finn, enjoy the show." She giggles, undoing her robe slowly, letting the silky material fall of her body, laying on her feet, making her kick it away while staring at me, her chocolate eyes now way darker than before. She is wearing different lingerie now, her small body covered by a bright red bra, which appears to be made of silk; just like her panties. She has the same heels on, though, which is a plus, since they make her legs looks even longer than they are.

"Happy birthday to you," She sings sexily, twirling her hips around and throwing her head side to side, her hair falling on her face. "happy birthday to you," She gets off the stage, though now, she's crawling at me, her eyes dark and she smiles like a wolf would smile at its pray. She is kneeling between my legs, rubbing my thighs softly.

"Happy birthday," She gets up and turns around, shaking her ass at me in a way that makes me want to reach for her and squeeze it, though I can't. She turns around and leans in to let her mouth near my ear, her voice husky as she continues to sing. "Finn Hudson," Ray presses a small kiss to my earlobe, and I can feel her smirking against it.

"Happy birthday..." Her hands are running down my chest now, stopping just above the buttons of my jeans. "To _you._"

I can't breathe, I can't talk and if I move, I'll poke her with my... Happiness. So instead, I keep still, watching as she pulls back from me and stands before me, her hands resting on the arms of the armchair, her nails teasing the fabric.

"Did you like that, Tall Boy?" She giggles.

I nod dumbly. "Y-yeah." I gulp and it's so loud that even she heard it, giggling softly once again.

"Good. I aim to please." Ray raises an eyebrow at me, picking her robe from the floor. "Since I didn't do the whole dance, as you can see," She gestures towards her covered body before wrapping her robe around her once more. "That dance is free, I won't charge you anything." She nods her tone now so professional it scares me. It's like she's two people at once: stripper Ray and girl from my building Ray.

I watch her as she adjusts her hair in the mirrors on the wall. "Berry." She says from above her shoulder as she opens the curtains of the room.

"Rachel Berry: that's my name." She smirks and before she walks away, I ask her with a shout.

"Do you have a Facebook?"

She just laughs and that's the last time I see her in a while.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! If this gets positive reactions, I think I'll continue. **


	2. But There's No You, Except In My Dreams

**A/N: Wow, I honestly didn't expect the fic to get such a positive answer! I hope this chapter is just as good as the first one! Also, I'll update Symphony soon, don't you worry, I'm already finishing the chapter. And now, without further or do, I present to you, the second chapter of You Can Leave Your Hat On. Enjoy!**

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"Like this?"

"No, it has to be harder."

"But I'm already doing it_ hard!"_

"No, you're not. Come on, really grip it!" I tell my eight year old student Josh, trying to teach him how to drum properly. Even though I've just finished college, I still have to pay part of the bills by my own, so I give private drumming lessons to kids, which helps me earn some sweet cash and the job isn't bad either, I've always been good with kids and I can drum with both my hands tied and my eyes closed.

I see Josh whine, throwing the drumsticks to the side, almost letting them hit the floor, but I reach out for them before they reach the ground, gripping them tightly in my hands. I raise an eyebrow at him because even though the drumsticks aren't mine, these things are expensive. "I can't do this, Mr. Hudson!" The kid crosses his arms in front of his chest while he speaks, pouting. "I can't drum for my life."

I look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, this is your _fourth _lesson, you can't just learn everything in four lessons." I see him frown. "But, you know, drumming is more about rhythm than anything else. When I was your age, I was hopeless when it came to the drums, but I began practicing every day and though my mom wanted to murder me for the noise, I was able to handle the drums just fine when I reached ten years old."

"It's going to take me two years to learn?!" Josh gasps and I sigh, rubbing my face with my hand.

"Everyone learns in their own time, Josh." I tell him. "Maybe it'll take you two months; maybe it'll take you two years, it doesn't matter, you have to focus on learning every single step if you want to be good at this." I look at him for a moment before I carefully pick up the drumsticks and hold them up to his face, waving them in front of him with a small smile. "Wanna practice again?"

He stares at the wooden sticks for a while before he gives in, sighing and grabbing them. "Fine. But I don't know how much I can take, Mr. Hudson. Drumming is hard."

I laugh. "Life is hard, kid, now come on. A one, a two, a one, two, three, four!"

**xXx**

_I'm sitting on a chair, my feet tied onto the legs of the chair and I can barely see a step ahead of me. The room is dark and the only light in the place is a blue spotlight that hovers above a curtain and suddenly, the curtains open, revealing a frame, even though it's shady, through the lights._

_I don't know where I am, I don't know what I'm doing but all I know is this: there is a woman is in front of me and she's wearing next to nothing on her body, her curvy hips covered by a lacy pair of black panties, her small chest held by a matching bra and though her bright, red lips are certainly crying out for attention, the black, velvety mask that covers her eyes is what gets me. She smiles and by the way she's staring at me - even though her mask - I can tell she wants something from me and wants it badly; and oh, will I give it to her. Anything she wants, she'll get it.  
_

_She walks over to me, slowly - she is such a tease - and grins widely as she notices how my breath turns heavier by each step she takes. Finally, she adjusts herself on my lap, straddling it; her smooth thighs settle by the side of my own and my hand grips onto her hip, my eyes wide as she runs her sharp, red nails along my covered chest, teasing my nipples in a way I didn't even know I liked.  
_

_She leans in and begins to press soft kisses to my neck and though I can feel the red lipstick sticking onto my neck, I barely care because her kisses feel so good, I never want them to end. She is grinding onto me now, her hands palming my abdomen through my shirt while her slippery tongue slips out of her red mouth and licks the shell of my ear and suddenly, shivers run down my spine and I let out a sharp breath: she's trying to kill me, I'm sure of it.  
_

_Her hands are unstoppable, sliding up and down my torso and just as she stops above the buttons of my jeans, smirking wickedly and beginning to hum near my ear. I know this voice, I've heard it before. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." She nips onto my neck and I growl. "Happy birthday," Her hands reach for the buttons of my jeans and I begin breathing hard, listening to my fly being pulled all the way down, feeling relief wash through me as my jeans don't constrict me anymore. "Finn Hudson..." She sounds just as sexy as before and this should be illegal, she's too good to be true. "Happy birthday," She reaches for my boxers covered erection and palms me through my jeans, making me go weak on my knees while her teeth are nibbling on my earlobe. "To you."  
_

_I am breathing as hard as a person who has just finished running a marathon and that only seems to make her like the situation more. Oh, she's a wicked one, this girl.  
_

_"Rachel." I purr under my breath. She looks at me and smirks, undoing her mask and throwing it onto the floor.  
_

_"Hey, Tall Boy."  
_

_And then she's gone._

**xXx**

I wake up covered in sweat, small drops of it falling down my forehead while I'm breathing hard, my chest rising and falling and I just realize what happened. I dreamt about her, again, for the second time _tonight. _Rachel Berry has burned her figure in my mind and she won't leave me alone for an instant.

As a writer, I'm supposed to know how to handle my emotions and unleash them on my work but so far? Things haven't been working so well. Rachel Berry brings out the beast in me, a side I didn't even know I had and I'm not sure if I like it or not.

After I came home from the strip club, I went through every single Rachel Berry profiles and _none _of them was hers; I have been frustrated, trying somehow to find anyone or anything that can lead me to her, I looked through my phonebook, Facebook, Twitter, Google, anything and you know what? I have found nothing; the girl is like a freakin' CIA agent or something; and it's driving me insane.  
I tell my roommates about her, leaving the racy parts out, obviously, hoping that one of them knows about her ("No Puck, she isn't a _real _CIA agent, it's a metaphor, idiot!"), but they're as useless as I am, if not more. Defeated, I gather some food around the kitchen, a small cup of orange juice and some toasts with jam and lay them down on the table, eating in silence while I let my mind travel by itself, always coming back to the same topic: Rachel.

I wonder if that's her real name, after all, she could've tricked me into thinking that was her name, when it could've been just a joke she made to get me off her hair or something... Although she doesn't seem like the type of girl who would torture a guy like that.

No! What am I talking about? I don't even know her _and _she's a stripper!

While sipping on my orange juice, I decide that, from now on, I'm going to forget all about Rachel Berry.

Easier said than done.

**xXx**

I realize that I'm stuck in the tenth chapter of my novel, so instead of trying to push the ideas out of my head, I simply decided to go out, maybe breathe in some fresh air and let the oxygen work on my brain, let my ideas arrange themselves, y'know? So I put on my jeans and a jacket, it's chilly outside and I walk towards the front door, locking it after I leave the apartment, after all, there have been three robberies in the building this _month. _Have I mentioned that my neighborhood isn't exactly the safest in Manhattan? Yeah, well, it isn't.

I press the "down" button on the elevator, whistling and looking around while I wait for it to arrive. As the elevator doors open, I find a short, curvy Latina girl staring at me with her arms crossed in front of her chest, I walk inside the elevator and greet her ["Good afternoon, ma'am."] and she greets me back with a nod, dropping her arms in front of her body and letting her nails play with the elevator walls. She looks at me and leans her head to the side, almost like she's examining me, trying to figure out where she knows me from and then, she speaks.

"Do I know you? I feel like I've seen you before." She says. "Not around the building, I mean. Somewhere else?" She taps her skinny finger onto her chin, making a thinking face, trying to figure out if we've met before or not and then, she snaps her fingers. "Oh, I know! You're Puckerman's roommate, aren't you? Evans or something?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm Finn. Evans - or Sam, is the other one, y'know, the blond."

"Ah." She nods. "Trouty Mouth." I chuckle softly and she turns to look at me with a grin. "I'm Santana, Santana Lopez. I live on the fourth floor, apartment 402." She smiles and shakes my head politely and I nod.

"Well, like I said, I'm Finn, Finn Hudson. I live with Puck and Sam."

She nods. "I know." There's an awkward silence for a moment, but its broken as soon as she speaks again, a minute later. "Um, listen, I'm going to throw a party on my apartment on Saturday, it's a small reunion, just me and a few close friends... Would you like to come? You can ask Puckerman and Trouty Mouth as well, if you want." She offers and I nod simply.

"Um, sure! I'm not going anywhere on Saturday, anyway. I'll talk to them." The elevator doors open and I nod at her, holding it for her so she can leave; she thanks me and walks in front of me. She throws me a small wave before leaving the building, a "Bye, Hudson!" leaving her mouth as she walks away.

I immediately dial the familiar number I have mesmerized by now, knowing that he'll be the first one to want to know about this. "Puck, you're not going to believe this, man."

**xXx**

"I can't believe Santana invited _you _to the party and said to bring _me _along, I mean, Evans I understand, he's a total dork-"

"Hey!" Sam protests from across the room.

"But me? I'm a total hot piece of ass." Puck grunts into his beer, burping after he finishes it and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. I cringe.

"Has someone told you how classy you are before?"

He shrugs. "I'm a dude, I don't need class, I need my swagger." He smirks. "And I've got my swagger on my balls than both of you dorks have on your whole bodies."

Sam snickers from across the room and I roll my eyes while trying to hold all my clothes into my wardrobe, thinking that maybe it's time to clear this up. I see Puck getting up and heading towards the kitchen, so I shout over my shoulder. "Dude, go change, we're already one hour late for the party!" I sigh as he burps so loud that even I can hear it, even though he's two doors away.

We are going to Santana's party and Puck has been prissy ever since I told him about her invitation because she invited _me specifically, _telling me to tag him "along" and he doesn't like being put in second plan or something like that and though Sam and I are almost fully dressed up and ready to go, Puck is still wondering around the living room in his boxers and wife-beater. I send him an annoyed glance and he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Finnessa. I can get dressed in two seconds, unlike you ladies, I don't need to put make up on or shit like that."

Sam shots up from his seat and points at Puck. "It's not gay if it's chapstick!"

Puck rolls his eyes. "That's like saying: it's not gay if its guy on guy sex, seriously Evans, would you just come out of the closet already, you're wasting precious homosexual time here, dude." Sam throws his hands in the air, giving up while I hold back a chuckle; Puck knows that only three things can piss Sam off: saying something bad about Avatar ["What do you mean _it's all about special effects? You clearly don't understand the storyline!_"], saying that the new version of Star Wars is better than the original and making fun of his love affair with his chapstick; honestly though, I've got to give Puck some points here, the dude carries _two_ chapsticks in his pockets everytime he leaves the apartment - even though its just in case _his lips lose it's softness.  
_

After Puck finally finishes getting dressed and Sam applies his second layer of chapstick, I put on my blazer and grab the apartment keys in my hands, whistling to get Puck and Sam's attention, who are now arguing about... Well, anything, really, I don't care. "You guys ready to go?" I ask while leading us out of my room and unlocking the front door.

"Yeah." Puck shrugs. "Oh wait, I have to check something first-" He presses his hand onto his pocket and smirks proudly. "Got my condoms, let's go party, dudes!" He shouts while he presses the elevator button and I lock the front door. We enter the elevator and though it's like torture having to listen to Puck's sexual positions and which ones he plans on using tonight, we finally reach the fourth floor, knocking on the front door of Santana's apartment.

The Latina opens the door and smirks while the three of us examine her body: she has a hot pink dress on that reaches just above her knee and hugs her waist tightly, bringing out her breasts and making them nearly jump out of the dress, Puck whistles while I nod hello and Sam just stand there awkwardly. She hugs Puck tightly, pressing her chest to his and giggles as he whispers something in her ear, turning to Sam and I, hugging the both of us as well.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it!" She squeals and I can feel the alcohol in her breath_. _"I thought that you wouldn't be able to come, since you're one hour late."

Puck grins, wrapping an arm around Santana while she leads us inside. "I don't like keeping my ladies waiting but, Huddy and Evans over there had to put their make up on, so..."

She laughs and kisses his cheek. "Well okay, come with me, I want to introduce you guys to my friends! C'mon!" She says and next thing we know, she is dragging Puck around the crowded living room and apparently, Santana's definition of a private party is sort of twisted. We spot a few girls dancing in the middle of the living room, almost all of them holding drinks in their hands and giggling loudly while they twirl their hips to the song. The music is incredibly loud but we managed to hear Santana's words anyways, so, she begins to point at her friends and introduce them all to us, one by one.

"Guys, I'd like you to meet Brittany," She points at a pale girl with blue eyes, blonde hair and who is wearing tight leather pants along with a neon shirt. She waves hi and tries to say something through her giggles, but ends up letting the laughter swallow all of her words, making them not possible to understand. Santana shakes her head and continues. "Ignore her, she's wasted!" She laughs, resting her hand on a skinny girl's shoulder. "This is Quinn." Quinn waves her fingers at us and smirks, mostly at Puck and I can already feel the sexual heat exhaling from both of them; she has green eyes, blonde, curly hair and a small, baby blue dress on; Puck winks at her and she giggles, biting her lip and blushing. "This is Tina..." She taps an Asian girl's shoulder and the girl smiles shyly at us, nodding her head; the girl is pretty, she has dark hair with pink tips and is wearing dark, gothic clothes. "And finally, this is my little hobbit..." But the girl isn't facing us, she's laughing at something Quinn said. Santana taps her shoulder lightly and she turns around. "Berry, say hello to the boys." The girl is wearing a tight, red dress, she spots long, tanned legs and her ass should be illegal, but we have yet to see her faceand- wait, wait... Did she just say _Berry?_

Oh no.

_Oh shit. _

"Hey there, Tall Boy."

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**A/N: Am I a tease, yes or yes? Haha, thanks for reading, I hope the second chapter didn't let you down.**


	3. Did You Say You Want To Dance With Me?

**A/N: Sorry it took me a while to update, I have been busy with tests and writing the new chapter of Symphony. I was wondering if the second chapter let you down because it didn't get as much reviews as the first one, but hopefully, you guys are still enjoying the fic. Well, I hope so, at least. Also, this is a _smutty _chapter, which means _sexual content_. Now, this is the second time I've written smut, so be nice. Enjoy your reading! **

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Here's the thing - a long time ago, I learned that the Universe likes to punish some people. Perhaps for fun, perhaps because they deserve it, but that's not the point; the point is, the Universe is always punishing people everywhere - with hurricanes, failed relationships, anything. It always finds a way to punish a certain someone with the worst thing it can find.

For instance, right now, the Universe is punishing me, _punishing me hard_. And with what?_ Rachel freakin' Berry_, that's what. It's funny how things in my life work, I look for her, day after day during a week and when I finally let go, I meet her again.

And as if this wasn't hard enough as it is, she still has to look like _this_. Her dress is so tight, her legs are so long and her lips are so red and honestly, I've never liked red lipstick on the girls I go out with - your mouth gets all red and sticky when you kissed them, but she looks like a freakin' Goddess and I want, more than anything in the world, to kiss her, kiss her hard until her lungs burn for air and she begs me to stop.

"Do you guys know each other?" Santana asks, bringing me out of my thoughts as she gestures between Rachel and I with a glass in her hands. I open my mouth to speak, but Rachel beats me to it.

"Oh, yes. Finn and Ihave been involved with some..." She examines my body up and down with a smirk, hiding her mouth with the tip of her glass, which is filled with Martini. "_Interesting _business situations, haven't we, Finn?" I nod dumbly, watching her as she laughs into her drink while Santana raises an eyebrow at both of us, trying to figure out the true meaning behind Rachel's words, although I realize she gives up a few moments later, probably too drunk to care.

We all stand there for a moment, awkwardly staring at each other until Santana shrieks some guy's name and runs to the front door to greet him with a big, drunken hug. I look around and realize that Puck has already found someone to talk to: he has his hands around Quinn's hips and a huge smirk on his lips while she giggles something into his chest. Sam is already dancing with the tall, blonde girl - Brittany, I think - while doing these dorky steps and even I know that's bad, but Brittany doesn't seem to mind, she just giggles and slaps his chest playfully, earning a grin from him.

While I examine the room, Tina and Rachel talk about something while they dance, though it's not much of a dance as it is tapping their feet to the beat and moving around and for the first time tonight, I am left alone. I shrug my shoulders and take a second glance at Rachel, watching the way her breasts pop out of her dress and the way her hair falls onto her shoulders as she leans against Tina and laughs at something she said, before I walk over to the bar (yes, Santana has a bar at her apartment, go figure) and grab myself some shots of Vodka, drinking every shot fast, not letting the bitter taste hit my tongue as I drink it, letting the burning feeling scratch its way down my throat.

I learn against the counter and sigh as I look at the people in the room: some of them are dancing, some kissing, most of them are drunk, probably won't even remember this party in the morning, when they'll find themselves sleeping in some stranger's bed, struggling with their brain to remember anything from tonight.

I see Santana walk towards me, well, walk towards the bar and she shoots me a small smile, pouring herself a glass of a pink drink. She brings it to her full lips and takes slow, steady drinks of it, licking her lips as she finishes, battling her eyelashes at me while she does so. I turn red and turn away from her, letting my eyes fall on Puck and Quinn, who are now grinding against each other to the rhythm of the music.

"Are you having Finn, fun?" She asks in a slurred voice and man, she's drunk. She seems to realize her mistake and giggles, scrunching her nose. "I mean, are you having fun, Finn?" She leans against me, resting her cheek on my arm and looking up at me. I shrug nonchalantly and reply.

"So far, I haven't done much, but the party seems great. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves." Santana giggles.

"It's cuz they're drunk!" She says a bit too loudly, gripping onto my shirt for her dear life and tugging at it. "Let's go dance!" And before I can protests, she drags me towards the dance floor, shaking her head and making "woo hoo" sounds while she jumps to the music, the loud beat getting to my ears and making me cringe while drunk people bump against me: this isn't the kind of party I usually go to and I'm feeling like a fish out of water.

"Dance, Finn!" She says but I shake my head.

"I don't dance. I _can't _dance." I correct myself shortly while she shakes her head.

"Of course you do! C'mon, just do what I do." And before I know what's happening, Santana leans her body against mine and begins to grind into me, waving her hips and swaying her head from side to side as the loud music plays. I hold onto her hips, trying to stop her but she takes it as a sign of encouragement and grinds onto me harder, singing the lyrics of the song in a slurred voice. I feel her turning around and before I know it, she's lacing her skinny arms around my neck and pulling me down forcefully, opening her mouth and letting her tongue show, trying to kiss me. I try to push her away, but before I can do so, I see Santana being dragged away from me by someone and when I strain my neck, trying to see my _hero, _my eyes widen: Rachel. She says something to Santana and points towards Sam and Brittany, who are still dancing together and Santana walks towards them, throwing her drunken body onto Brittany, kissing the blonde hair on her face.

Rachel walks towards me while I stand awkwardly, trying to process what just happened. She laces her arms around my neck like Santana did, but she doesn't seem drunk or desperate, so I relax under her touch, feeling her nails teasing the back of my neck as she looks up at me, making me get lost in her brown eyes.

"Saved your ass." She mumbles with a small smirk, pressing her body closer to mine so that our chests are touching. I nod down at her, my hands resting on her hips, almost like an instinct.

"Yeah." I agree. "Drunken girls scare the crap out of me." She giggles, biting her lip and raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me.

"A big guy like you, scared of small, innocent girls like us?" She teases. "Tsk, tsk."

I roll my eyes, though I can't hide the smirk on my lips. "First of all, innocent, really? I think not." She nudges my side with her elbow and I chuckle lowly, squeezing her hips softly. She looks up at me and opens her mouth to say something, but as a new song takes the room, her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, a small smile forming on her lips as she looks at me.

"I love this song!" She squeals, humming along to the song. She sways her hair from side to side and I smirk, she looks cute like this: singing, carefree and with her hair all over her face. She scrunches her nose as two drunk guys bump against her, taking my hand in hers and mumbling something about finding a better, less crowded place to dance at.

She ends up dragging me to the corner of the room and smiles as she leans me against the wall.

"Perfect!" She says, turning around and placing both of my hands at her hips and unlike Santana, she doesn't grind into me, instead, she sways her hips in the air, throwing her head back sexily and singing along to the lyrics quietly, her eyes shut and her mouth open while she concentrates in the song and fuck, she's sexy. She seems so natural at this, her tight dress doesn't seem to stop her from moving freely, nor do her heels as she twirls on her feet with no problem at all. I can hear her voice as she sings.

_"Oh baby, light's on, but your mom's not home, I'm sick of laying down alone, hey, with this fever, fever, yeah."_ She turns around so that she's staring at me now, pressing me against the wall a little harder, both of her legs stand between my own while she runs her manicured nails up and down my chest, looking up at me with dark, wolfish eyes.

_"My one and own, I wanna get you alone. Give you a fever, a fever, yeah."_ She dances, moving up and down against me while dragging her hands lower and lower on my chest until they reach my stomach and just like on the first _dance _she gave me, her teasing hands stop above my belt. I look at her with wide, dark eyes and she smirks teasingly, biting her lower lip and battling her eyelashes at me.

"You know," She begins, talking to me in a husky voice while her fingers play with the buttons of my shirt. "For a preppy boy, you're pretty fucking sexy." I know I should be offended, but all I can think of is how sexy the word _fucking _sounds in her voice and how I'd like her to use it in another sentence with a different meaning. Perhaps, something involving medoing a certain _action _with her. Her hands snake down my chest, her skinny fingers playing with my belt loops as she speaks. "You are all shy and adorable... It's cute. It makes me want to..." She pulls me down by the collar of my shirt and gets on her toes to whisper in my ear. "Corrupt you."

I swear, it takes a lot of self-control not to come in my pants right then. "I... I..."

She laughs softly, pulling me closer to her. "Did I make you nervous, boy?" She teases with a pout and I simply stare at her, my mouth dry as she giggles at my expression; then, she takes a look around the apartment, examining the people there, probably checking if anyone is paying close attention to us and thankfully, no one is, so, not wasting another minute, she takes my hand in hers and leads me through the crowd, smiling and waving at some people she knows naturally, acting like she hadn't been proposing indecencies in my ear a couple of seconds ago.

Finally, we arrive at the balcony: it's a small place, there are some plants growing in small vases at the corner of the balcony and there's a wooden bench sitting on the opposite side of the vases, the city lights and the full moon illuminating our skin as she shuts the glass door behind us, sitting me down on the bench forcefully, her mouth twisting into a smile as I look up at her, waiting for her next move.

Unexpectedly, she begins to undo the buttons of my shirt, touching one by one as she does so and in a matter of seconds, I sit before her in my undershirt and jeans. She shakes her head and scrunches her nose at me and suddenly, I feel very self-conscious under her staring, maybe she doesn't like what she sees? She brings me out of my thoughts when she runs her nails on my abs and I feel my stomach clench at the feeling. She sighs softly, her head hanging to the side as she frowns.

"Why do you wear that?" She asks, pointing at my undershirt. "It's not even cold out here." And before I get the chance to reply, she slides the undershirt off my torso, her eyes wandering on my upper body in a way that makes my skin turn red and heated; I look down at my feet, afraid of what she'll think of the way I look without my shirt on but she rests her hand on my chin, pulling it up so that I can stare at her eyes and I see something in them I hadn't seen before: softness, tenderness. She leans in and without another word, kisses me right on the mouth, one of her hands caressing my naked chest while the one that once rested on my chin is now caressing my jawline.

The kiss begins soft, but it turns heated and needy with time, making me bring my arms and wrap them around her hips, pulling her down onto my lap so that she's straddling me, her tongue brushes against mine and I growl in satisfaction: I have never felt this good before from one kiss. I try not to think about how experienced she must be at this, human contact, exchanging saliva with strangers and instead, I focus on the kiss, my hands now sliding down her hips and finally arriving at her ass, squeezing the soft, fabric-covered skin with my large palms, and I can feel pride rushing through me as she moans my name into my mouth.

Finally, much to my disappointment, she pulls away and I can't help but to notice the way her chest raises and falls as she breathes hard, the kiss left both of us breathless. She wipes some of her red lipstick off my mouth with a smirk, looking down at me tenderly.

"Don't be insecure, Finn." She says softly, her voice husky from our previous activities. "You're _so handsome._" I can feel the affection in her tone and I blush under her praise, nodding and looking away from her.

"Thanks." I say, though it's not very honest and she doesn't seem to miss that. She sighs, looking down at me with her hands on her hips.

"You don't believe in me, do you?" I look up at her and though I don't say a word, my dull eyes speak for me. She sighs, shaking her head in disbelief while she stares at me. Suddenly, an idea seems to have hit her and she smirks, leaning in to nip at the skin of my neck. "Well, I guess I'll just have to prove it to you, then."

And then, the unexpected happens: she slides down on her knees in front of me, kneeling between my spread legs.

She looks up at me with a naughty smirk plastered all over her lips and I can feel her nails teasing the skin of my thigh and even though my legs are covered by my jeans, her touch sends an electricity wave through my veins, making shivers run down my spine. Her hands, so smooth and warm, begin to rub my inner thighs up and down, slowly and teasingly, almost like she wants me to burst into flames right there. She undoes the buttons of my jeans slowly, her eyes trained on mine the whole time; and though I don't think that it can get any hotter than this, I look down at her and let my head drop back with a groan of pleasure: she takes the zipper of my pants between her teeth and pulls it down slowly, looking up at me with lust filled eyes.

Now, the only layer of fabric holding me back are my thin boxers that don't do much to hide the massive erection I'm spotting in my pants. She grins up at me and reaches for the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down my ankles along with my pants so that I'm sitting naked in front of her, no piece of fabric covering my body now; I fear that someone will catch us, that maybe Puck or Santana will walk in on us and tell on us to everyone else, or worse, will want to _join us; _and though my mind is full at the moment, it all seems to leave my head as soon as I feel the smooth skin of her hands wrap around my shaft, rubbing my erect member up and down in a steady rhythm and I can't help the loud wanton moan from leaving my throat, she just feels _so _good.

"Uh, fuck." I growl in desire. Rachel's hands are strong and steady, the way they move up and down my cock makes me want to come right there, but I can't, I have to hold it together and prolong this sensation as much as I possibly can. She looks up at me from beneath her eyelashes and speaks to me while her hands move - her thumb rubs my tip, spreading the pre-cum that leaks out of it down my shaft while her free hand touches my sac, fondling it in a way that makes me want to cry from the pleasure.

"Does it feel good, Finn?" Hearing her say my name like this makes me want to blow my load _now, _but I can't, I can't let go, and I have to hold on to this feeling forever. I simply nod, not trusting my voice enough to speak something. "Do you like my hands on you, Finn? You like how my hands rub your cock up and down?" She smirks and _fuck, _I think I'm going to burst into flames right here and then. She is speaking so closely to my dick that I can actually feel her hot breath against my skin, making my erection twitch in her hands. She notices my reaction and giggles huskily, looking up at me.

"I'm going to sing for you now." What? I look down at her with my eyebrows furrowed together, not getting what she's talking about, I mean, is she seriously going to _sing _for me while she is giving me a hand job? That is awkward is so many ways.

I open my mouth to begin questioning her, but all that leaves my throat is a deep, husky moan because suddenly, my swollen tip is enveloped by something hot and wet and when I look down, her dark hair is covering my view but I can see how head is moving, bobbing against me and _fuck, _she took me into her mouth and it feels_- fuck _– it feels amazing.

At first, I'm able to control myself, gripping onto the bench I'm sitting on, gripping the balcony or anything else around me, but as her expert tongue slides up and down my skin and plays with the sticky substance that is leaking out of my tip, I can't help myself, letting my fingers snake into her hair and tug on it a little too tightly, but instead of cringing or denying the feeling, she looks as me and I am not sure, but I think she is smirking.

She takes me out of her mouth and lets her hand replace the feeling of her lips, rubbing me up and down while her other hand continues to caress my sac, stimulating me in a way that no one else has ever done before. "Someone is a little grabby." She says hoarsely and just thinking that her voice is like that because of what her mouth was doing to me a few seconds ago sends shivers down my spine, and I simply tug onto her hair a little tighter, making her giggle softly. She's so freakin' sexy I can't even handle it.

Rachel takes me back into her mouth without a warning and I can't help bucking my hips in surprise, gasping at the feeling of her saliva contrasting with my hot, swollen skin. I'm leaking through my tip and she uses the substance to make her, um, _job, _easier, using her tongue to spread it all over my dick, making my length slide easier into her mouth. She sucks on me noisily, sloppily even, but I don't care, because the feeling is overwhelming.

I look down at her and she notices, locking her deep, brown eyes with mine, desire burning into them, making me let out a not at all manly whimper, gripping tighter onto her hair. The way she takes me into her mouth, it just feels like my dick is being bathed by a hot, silky feeling and I could die right now and not give a fuck, because honestly, she is so good that makes my whole body numb, I can't even feel my toes, but I know they're curling from the way she takes me in and out, in and out, her tongue tickling my skin.

"Rachel, _fuck._" She giggles against me and the vibrations of her laughter go straight to my cock, making me tug onto her hair and honestly, I deserve a medal for not fisting my hand into her hair and bobbing her head up and down my dick, it takes me a _lot _of self-control not to do so. She is looking up at me while working with her mouth and when she winks at me, my hips buck deeper into her mouth on their own, against my will and though I want to apologize, hoping she didn't choke or anything like that, she doesn't even move.

She just takes me _deeper, _and it's not only deeper, it's so deep that I can feel my tip hitting her throat. Obviously, she wouldn't have a gag reflex, this woman is a machine built by someone whose plan is to _kill _every man on Earth from sexual frustration. My dick is twitching into her mouth and I can feel the blood pumping there, I'm _so close _and it takes a lot of strength from me not to hold her head in place.

When I manage to open my eyes, which were previously shut from all the pleasure she was giving me, I look down and notice something: she is rubbing her thighs together, squeaky, husky sounds leaving her mouth and _oh man, _she's enjoying this. She's enjoying sucking me just as much as I'm enjoying being sucked.

She is going to _kill _me. I'm going to _die,_ its official, and the cause of the death will be Rachel Berry. She takes me out of her mouth and when pre-cum leaks through my tip, she watches it sliding down my cock and leans in, _licking it _like I'm her favorite lollipop and growls at the taste. Once again, after a small breath, she takes me back in and slides me all the way into her mouth, her throat touching my dick again and she looks up, staring at me through her thick lashes and then, she _hums – _she is humming the song that's playing on the background, at the party, the song is loud and dirty but I don't care, I barely acknowledge it because she's humming and _contracting _her throat around my cock and I can't take this anymore and I'm, I'm-

"Rach, I'm gonna- _oh fuck._" And before I can hold it, I'm done, releasing all of my orgasm into her mouth and bucking my hips at the feeling; and even though I expect her to drop me from her lips, she keeps me in place, swallowing all the cum and _milking _my dick until every drop leaks out of me.

My breath is heavy, my vision is blurred and I can smell the perfume from her hair from up here. I look down at her and she smirks at me, kissing my tip one final time before she pulls my boxers up, tucks me back into them and brings my pants up as well, zipping my pants and doing my buttons once more, picking my shirt from the floor and handing it to me. She laughs at my dazzled expression, shaking her head at me while she runs her finger on the side of her mouth, cleaning her lips.

I put on my shirt and look at her, waiting for her to say something. She notices what I'm doing and smiles, this time innocently. "Well, that was fun." She says and reaches into her dress, squirming while she is trying to pull something out of it, throwing it at my face as she succeeds. I frown, holding it and trying to make out what it is through the darkness. "A little souvenir for you, Tall Boy." And then she infiltrates the crowded party once more, turning her back to me.

I look down at the object in my hands and my eyes threaten to bug out of my head as I notice what it is: it's her _panties. _I run my fingers on the lacy fabric, holding it up and letting the moonlight hit it – they are delicate, purple and slightly transparent and as my hands touch the center of it, I moan.

They're _wet. _

**xXx**

"You _fucked _her?" Puck asks me through a mouth full of toast, making me roll my eyes at him and brush some spit toast off my shirt as he continues to talk. "You fucked a stripper, are you _stupid _or what? Do you know how many diseases those girls carry on them? Seriously, they're like, a _walking public bathroom._"

I glare at him. "Don't talk about her like that, you dick." I spit at him angrily. He has no right to talk about Rachel like that, like she's some sort of a freak just because of her job, it's just not right. Puck, however, ignores my warnings and continues to ramble.

"I mean, having her grind onto your lap is fine, you know cuz like, the clothes are covering your junk but _fucking _them is just-" I throw some orange juice right at his face without thinking, making him shut up completely. He blinks, his eyelashes heavy with the juice running down his face and he looks pretty pissed but I don't care because at least I was able to make him stop talking. "Dude, what… the… _Fuck!_" He yells and I laugh, walking towards the sink and throwing the dish towel at his face, so that he can clean himself up.

"I told you to shut up, now you got what you deserved." I say, walking into my room and slamming the door behind me, the force of it showing my roommates that I am _not _in the mood for more judgmental talk.

Ever since Puck and Sam found out what happened at the party, thanks to _Santana _who saw me walking out of the balcony right after Rachel did, they won't shut up about it – you would think they would pat my back and say something like "_attaboy!" _or any other stupidity your guy friends tell you when they find out you're getting laid, but when the girl you've been with is a stripper? No, then, it's like you're society's _scum _and everyone is better than you.

I don't care what they say, though, because all that's been on my mind since the party is Rachel, which is not fair, because I was doing a pretty good job trying to forget her… Okay, not really, but still.

After the… Um, _balcony situation, _she simply disappeared into the crowd and though I wanted to, I wasn't able to find her that night and I even tried to get her number from Santana or Quinn, but the girls would offer me poor excuses like, "_oh I don't have her number" _or _"Rachel_ _who?", _which is total bullshit because they're friends with her. It's like the Universe wants me to suffer every day because it's the second time I _get _Rachel and have her been taken away from me, just like that, in a blink of an eye and it drives me insane to live like this. I want her back; I want to have her for me, to wrap my arms around her, to kiss her mouth until she can't breathe anymore, to run my fingers through her strawberry-smelling hair… But I can't because she's not here.

And I know it might sound insane or stupid to feel this way about someone I've met two weeks ago, but in all truth I can't get her out of my head and I need to be with her again, I need to see her and to talk to her again, but more than anything, I need to meet her, the _real _Rachel – the Rachel who giggles at my stupid jokes, the Rachel I _danced _with at the party.

Not that I mind the Rachel who got on her knees for me, because I don't – in fact, that Rachel is more than welcome to join me anytime she wants. But that's just a _part _of her and honestly? I want to meet the _whole _Rachel.

So I decide that I'm going to the strip club tonight. I'm going to go there, ask her out and for once, do something I haven't done in a long time: have some balls.

**xXx**

I walk into the strip club and instantly, I feel like a fish out of water – here I am, watching all these girls bounce and wiggle their asses on the stage while guys slide a twenty dollars bill in their panties, I shouldn't be here, I _shouldn't, _but then I remember I'm here because of her, _Rachel, _and I can breathe again, though I'm still twirling my hands by my body's side nervously.

Sitting on the nearest table, I adjust myself on an uncomfortable chair and order a beer, knowing that I'll have to wait for a while, probably, since Rachel's _performance _is the last one of them.

I watch as all the girls come to dance – Sam's _girl, _Mercedes, she is a big girl, but she has a very pretty face and her body is beautiful on its own way, and as I writer, I tend to notice small things and find beauty where certain people can't; next comes the blonde girl I met at the party, Brittany, and so far, she's the best dancer of them all, you can tell by her toned legs and abdomen that she works out daily and dances professionally and I can't help but to wonder if that's what her ideal career would be, a dancer, the next ones are Quinn and Tina, who dance together to a very sensual beat, touching each other's bodies in a sexy, teasing manner and I notice that they are the ones getting the bigger tips – all men love girl on girl action, that's a fact.

And finally, after – I check my watch – an _hour _waiting, she comes on the stage. All men instantly adjust themselves in their seats, sitting up to stare at her properly and begin clapping loudly and howling like wolves in the heat because _yeah_, she's all that and though I know I should be doing the same, I can't because I'm mesmerized by her: she has a silky, transparent camisole on, the dark purple-ish color making her smooth, olive skin pop out, she also has on a small, black thong that barely shows itself since its basically hidden in her firm round behind and under her camisole – and fuck, don't even get me started on the heels she's wearing.

This time though, she doesn't have a chair – instead, she walks towards the pole and grips it firmly with her small hands, hooking a long, firm leg around it and sliding around the pole, coming down slowly and bucking her hips, throwing her head back and waving her long curls sensually, earning some groans from the men who watch her, _including me. _Then, she begins to twirl around the pole, grinding her core to it while she does so, letting the beat of the song be the one to leads the movements of her hips – she is so sexy, it's probably illegal.

She turns around so that her back is the one pressed against the pole and begins sliding down, oh so very slowly, spreading her legs wide as she finally reaches the floor, getting on her hands and knees and crawling towards the men who stand before the stage with a wolfish look on her eyes, wiggling her hips at them and teasingly tugging at the hem of her camisole, sliding it off her body slowly while she lets all of them watch. Finally, her round breasts are showing and I can feel a tug coming from between my legs, blushing from head to toe as I find myself staring at her boobs longer than anyone else, letting the image of them be burned in my brain.

Rachel is looking around the club while she crawls on stage and then, she teasingly begins to play with the sides of her panties, sliding them down and showing off her hips and some of her ass before she pulls them back on, not giving the men what they want _(not giving me what I want, either)._

Finally, the song ends and she gets up, putting on her camisole and bowing at all the "applauses" she's receiving – more like howling and whistling. I instantly get up and in the rush of needing to talk to her, I end up dropping the chair on the floor, making me have to bend down to bring the object to its original place again, I end up taking a while doing so, because the side of the chair breaks and I have to get it back together but in no less than two minutes, I end up managing to fix it and great, I can _finally _go talk to her again!

I'm so nervous, my stomach is doing these flips in my abdomen but I breathe in, breath out and breathe in again, trying to assure myself that it's alright, it's just Rachel and though I don't know what she'll say to my request, I know she will be gentle about it.

However, as I finally approach the stage, I see something I wish I hadn't.

Rachel has her arms wrapped around a guy's neck, a huge smirk plastered on her lips as she looks into his eyes, his own arms wrapped around her waist and holding her possessively against him. He is strong, short – he is taller than her for a few inches – and has a face that begs for me to _punch it. _

"How was I?" She asks with a small, sweet voice that makes me feel sick in my stomach. Maybe they're just friends; maybe she is just asking him about her performance because she felt insecure today, maybe…

"You were awesome, babe." He says and I want to _puke _on his shoes, I actually want to _puke. _Babe? What are they, in High School?

And as if what was happening before wasn't enough, what happens next is the final stab that my heart needed so I could bleed to death – she kisses him. He isn't even the one to initiate the kiss, _she _is, she is kissing him with everything she has, her tongue making its presence very aware inside his mouth while she caresses his scalp with her nails and that- that's what she did when she kissed _me. _

He then twirls her around in his arms after they break apart, making her giggle into his neck afterwards. He talks to her about something and that's when I realize she has locked her eyes on something – or better, _someone _– because she's staring at _me. _

She knows I'm here and she sees me.

So she kisses him again, harder.

And I run out of the bar.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! This was the longest chapter I've written so far and in case you haven't noticed, I love cliffhangers. Oh well, until next time!**


	4. They Call Me Firecracker

**A/N: Thank you for all the positive reviews on the last chapter. Hope this one lives up to your expectations! Smut ahead, you've been warned! Excuse all the typos and mistakes, it's late and it's been a tiring week. Well, enjoy your reading!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.**

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I'm trying really hard not to care, she is just a stranger, after all - a stranger with awesome lips and a body shaped to perfection - but I just… I cannot _not_ care. I thought she was interested in me, and if she wasn't, she had a funny way showing it.

I have been torturing myself with the images burned in my brain for the whole week - her laughter, the way he held her against him, the way her lips, which once seemed to be made to my own, fitting perfectly against his, but most of all, what got to me was the stare, the way her eyes pierced right into mine, like she was saying - are you watching this? Watch me kiss another man, you fool.

I guess that's just what you get for trying to be into someone.

One day, I hear Puck and Sam grumbling around the house in search for food, claiming that we were out of protein bars and Red Bulls, so I offer to go grocery shopping for us - it's going to be good for me, going out, breathing some fresh air, walking through New York can be quite comforting for me.

And as I'm reaching for some apples, I see someone drop their bags by my side, so I bend down to help them, watching some oranges rolling by my side. I get everything I can reach into my hands and get up, ready to hand all those fruits and cookies for the owner, however, I freeze in shock as I see who it is - the nameless guy Rachel was kissing at the club stands in front of me, staring at me blankly while I examine his face, just to make sure I'm not mistaken. Immediately, I shut my mouth in a tight, straight line and hand him the food, not wanting to say anything I'll regret later on; the dude frowns at my behavior and takes everything in his hands while looking at me.

"Um, thanks." He says and by his voice, he seems to be younger than me, probably nineteen or such. "You okay, man?" He asks me in concern and as I am about to reply, I see a head of bouncing, brunette hair rushing towards us both, small, skinny arms wrapping around the nameless man's waist.

"Malcom, you totally left me hanging there! Where did you- oh." Rachel is looking up at me now, a fake innocence flashing in her eyes as she leans in and kisses the guy, Malcom, on the cheek, her voice bittersweet as she speaks. "Who is your friend?"

I raise my eyebrow at her - is she going to pretend that she doesn't know me? Really? I look at her like she has grown a second head, but she seems to be very serious about her plan, considering that she is rubbing his chest with the soft palms of her hands - hands that were once wrapped around my private areas.

"Finn." I manage to speak, holding out my hand so that Malcom can shake it. "Finn Hudson. And you are…"

Malcom smiles politely as he shakes my hand, oblivious to the dark stares his girlfriend is shooting me. "Malcom Miles and this is my girlfriend, Rachel." He turns around and smiles at Rachel, whose expression changes completely under Malcom's eyes - long gone are the dark, lustful eyes that were staring at me, which were now replaced by a pair of sweet, warm eyes. She smiles at me, a fake smile.

"Pleasure to meet you, I am sure." She immediately turns to Malcom with a pout on her lips and that is when I realize how different she looks now: she has no makeup on, her body is covered by a dress that reaches just the top of her knees and has flower prints all over it, while her hair is tied on a ponytail at the top of her head. I'd dare to say she looks cute, if I didn't hate her so much.

"Honey, can we please go home? I am really tired and it's almost time for America's Next Top Model, and if you make me miss this episode, I am going to throw a hissy fit." He laughs and wraps his arm around waist while she nuzzles her nose to his neck.

"Sure, baby." He chuckles. "Thanks again, dude." He says, holding out a few oranges for me to see. I nod and watch as Rachel puts some in another plastic bag, taking his hand in hers and walking out of the grocery store, and though I might be very confused right now, I don't miss the kiss she blows me from over her shoulder when her boyfriend is not looking.

**xXx**

It's been two days since the last time I saw her - flirting with me while Malcom's arms were around her. What is her problem, anyway? What kind of mind game is she playing, is one man not enough for her? I shake my head and try to get rid of all these thoughts, since today is a very important day for my career - after recently finishing my book, Puck managed to set an interview with his friend, who happens to own a book publishing business and is willing to read my novel, maybe to set me up with a contract and, even though he is relatively new in the business, it's better to find someone to publish my books now before another guy writes the same type of novel and I end up being known as the "guy who copies other people's ideas".

I put on my best shirt and pants, with social shoes to go along with it and brush my hair - something I rarely do -, smiling as I see myself in the mirror - not bad. I put on the cologne my mother sent me as a Christmas gift and get ready for the interview, taking a second look at my reflection before I get ready to leave.

I press the elevator button and wait for it arriving, and as the automatic door opens, I smile as I see who is joining me today - Santana. I wave at her and shoot her a friendly smile, receiving one from her as well. We make small talk for a while before she turns around and asks to me, out of nowhere if I want to have dinner with her on Friday.

"It's just that," She tries to explain as she sees my shocked expression. "My friends invited me for a double date with them and since I didn't want to seem like a total loser, I told them it would be no problem and that I _surely _have someone to come with me." She rolls her eyes at her own words and sets her hands on her hips. "Now I'm two times a loser." She groans, rubbing her face with a displeased expression and I swear that, at this moment, I actually feel sorry for her - she is a nice girl, despite of her drunken behavior, and she deserves someone to go with her.

I don't know why or how the words leave my mouth, but they do before I can stop them. "I'll go with you."

She turns to me with a huge beam all over her lips. "Really?"

I nod, looking down at my feet and blushing. "Sure." I manage to say. "What time and where?"

Santana smirks, taking a pen out of her pocket and taking my rough hand in her skinny one, writing all the information on my palm with a neat, cursive calligraphy. "It'll be at eight, wear something nice. By the way, you look really hot today." She says, wiggling her eyebrows at me before she leaves the elevator, leaving me behind with a smirk.

Maybe this is good - this will be a good chance to forget all about _her, _about _Rachel_. This time, I'll let go of her completely, I can feel it.

**xXx**

I arrive a bit late, though Santana doesn't seem to mind, mostly because she's already on her third Martini glass. She looks nice, her body is tightly wrapped by a black, strapless dress that barely reaches the middle of her thighs, her feet are being supported by her black high-heels and her face is covered with makeup, that makes her look dangerous, desirable - not that she needs make up for that.

She lights up as she sees me, waving at me from the table and I wave back, walking towards her. I sit by her side and she kisses me on the cheek, telling me I look hot and I tell her the same, though with softer words. She asks if I want a drink and I tell her I don't drink much and that just a beer will be fine, so she calls the waitress back and tells her what to bring - some fries, a beer and a diet coke, and after Santana shoos the waitress away, we are sitting alone again.

We begin making small talk - I ask her about work, she asks me about my roommates, I ask about her hobbies and she makes a joke about it, earning a chuckle from me as well, though I'm not sure that I get it. I ask her about her friends, my mind wandering through possibilities to why haven't they arrived yet (they could've died or maybe Santana made the whole scenario up just so that she could spend some time alone with me, though the first one seems more likely than the second) and she waves her hands in the air, in a way that tells me it's not important, saying that they're probably _screwing _each other's brains out somewhere.

As I'm sitting in front of Santana with my back turned to the front door, I can't see who it is as she waves her hands at someone, though I'm sure it's her friends, who have just arrived. She gets up from the table and opens her smile, waiting for her friends to hug her and I get up as well, politely waiting for them all to sit and join us. I see a small girl hugging Santana tightly and as I turn around to shake the guy's hand, I freeze - it's Malcom. I shake his hand tightly with a tight smile, though my mind is crashing down on the inside and for the first time, I hope I'm wrong, I hope that maybe they've broken up and maybe this time, he's going out with someone else - but as I feared, I'm right, because Santana is being hugged by Rachel Berry, who has a bright smile on her lips as she chats with her friend, unaware of my presence.

She turns around to greet me, but as she realizes I'm the one standing in front of her, she smirks, already planning the mind games she's playing with me tonight, leaning in to shake my hand with a devilish smirk plastered on her full, pink lips.

"Look who it is, honey!" She says, smiling innocently at Malcom while her nails tease the rough skin of my hands. I shiver. "It's Flynn, from the supermarket." Her eyes are shining as she speaks, it's like she's someone else completely when she's with him. I hate it.

"It's um, Finn." I say, almost not believing what's going on. What is she doing?

She laughs softly, nothing like the way she laughed at Santana's party - she's a good actress, this one. "I apologize, Finn, my head has been in the clouds these past few days." Santana shows them where to sit while I murmur a soft _it's okay _and I take a seat right in front of her, in front of Rachel - _great. _

The waitress comes back and hands us two menus - one of each couple. Rachel is trying to peek over Malcom's shoulder while he tickles her sides, making her giggle adorably and wrap an arm around his neck while I offer Santana the menu, not feeling hungry anymore. She asks me what I want and I tell her just a hamburger would be fine, so she orders one from me - "Lots of bacon in it, too, right?" - And I thank her, though my eyes never leave the small figure sitting before me. She's so beautiful, so gracious on her feet, so evil, _so perfect_; she notices I'm staring and immediately, I blush, looking down at my hands, but instead of making a big deal out of it, she just smirks at me, almost like she's planning on getting to me later on.

After we order, Malcom is blabbering about his job, saying that although being a DJ can be very tiring, it's what he loves to do and that he worked hard for this - I have to take a sip of my drink not to scoff right at his face, _right, _he looks like such a momma's boy, with his neat hair, his expensive clothes and his new shoes, he talks like a child, he looks like a child and even _acts _like one; how this guy managed to get Rachel to settle down, I'll never know. However, just as Malcom begins describing what does a DJ actually do, I feel something creeping up my leg - immediately, I think of Santana trying to feel me up, but as I turn to stare at her, she's paying close attention to Malcom, her hands both visible on top of the table. I frown as I feel it once again, this time, for longer - like someone's foot is lingering on my leg, and as I feel someone staring at me, I look up and my eyes meet a pair of dark ones, Rachel's eyes are pouring into mine while her small feet tease the skin of my leg while her face is unreadable: she is staring at me with blank, yet dark eyes, her mouth twisting into a straight line, but as you examine it closer, there's a small hint of a smirk at the side of it and what kills me is that her fingers are laced through Malcom's, her head resting on his chest while her feet move against me.

Santana laughs at something Malcom said, and Rachel's leg reaches higher on my leg, finding my knee. I don't know how someone can reach this high without moving on their seat, but she's a _dancer, _sort of, she's used to this, isn't she?

Malcom asks me about my job and I reply, shortly, about my novels, saying I've just finished one. He says that's great and I thank him politely, biting my lip so I don't say something about his girlfriend's foot halfway up my leg, reaching for a very, _very _dangerous place. Rachel has piercing brown eyes and when she stares at me, it's like she's burning my whole body with a look, and her foot is being used as a weapon as she continues to torture me, slowly making her way up my body. Finally, much to my relief or despair, her feet reach a rather _delicate _region of mine, her toes freely teasing the forming bulge in my pants - how is she doing this without slipping out of her chair, I'll never know.

"Finn, you okay?" Santana asks from across the table with a frown on her face. Rachel's other foot joins the party, squeezing me slightly, making me let out a small whine and bury my face between my hands.

"Yeah man, you look like you really need to poop or something."

"F-ah-ine." I manage to get out. "J-just a headache."

"Oh, poor thing." Rachel's sick, sick voice calls from the other side of the table. "Maybe you should _go to the bathroom _and throw some water on your face." She teases, staring at me from beneath her thick eyelashes, a shadow of a smirk forming on the side of her pouty lips. I immediately catch the suggestive tone in her voice and excuse myself clumsily; leaving the table rapidly so that people won't see the huge boner I'm spotting.

I enter the bathroom and lean against the sink, breathing in and out and trying to calm down; this girl has got me going insane. There's no way I'll be able to make it go _down _anytime soon and I can't come back with a huge hard-on and walk through the restaurant like nothing is happening. I close my eyes and turn around to stare at myself in the mirror, letting the water run from the tap and throwing some of it on my face, breathing deeply as I feel my overheated skin cooling down.

Just as I think it's over, a pair of tiny hands creeps up my back while hot, wet lips reach for my neck, soft, wet kisses resting there. I shiver under the ministration of Rachel's skills and though I want to let go and let her do whatever she's planning with me, I gather the rest of the pride I still have and face her, breathing hard while I try to keep my voice steady and straight.

"J-just what do you think you're _doing?!_" I ask, my voice husky as I speak. She smirks, playing with one of her brunette curls innocently and pouting.

"Having fun?" She asks with a smirk, biting her lower lip and walking closer to me, though she does it slowly, I can feel the space between us becoming smaller by the second. "Dinner is boring, anyways." She shrugs nonchalantly, her chest pressed to mine now. Rachel's manicured nails ran up and down my chest, teasing my nipples through the fabric of my shirt and making me stir in my pants again.

_Damn her_.

"Oh, hello there." She smirks, instantly reaching for the bulge in my pants, cupping me through the rough fabric and making me buck into her hand, a small whine leaving my throat. "You seem happy to see me."

"Ra-Rachel, wha- what we're doing here... It's wrong." My eyes shut close and my face in pinched in a pained/pleasured expression. "S-so good, b-but wrong. Mal-Malcom..."

"Is a great guy and treats me like a queen." She smirks. "But," She gets on her toes and whispers into my ear. "He isn't very good at... _Pleasing _me." She grips the bulge a little harder, rubbing it up and down teasingly while I grip the sink by my side, my knees have failed me already. "He is in _college, _Finn. Do you know who thinks that college guys are hot? College _girls_." She rolls her eyes while kissing my neck slowly, her tongue making its presence very well known on my skin. "I need a good _fuck _every once in a while," I whimper as she giggles huskily in my ear. "And I know that _you _can provide me that."

"W-why a-hhh-are you with him?" I manage to ask, though my mind is already melting away and I can barely remember my name.  
She stares at me for a moment. "Being with _Malcom _is safe..." She comes back to working on my neck, nibbling her way up my earlobe.

"Being with you is _dangerous. _Stop talking about Malcom right now, or else I'll let _him _be the one to take care of me." As I analyze her words, I take her by the wrist and press her against the nearest bathroom stall.

"The fuck he will." I spit through my teeth, letting the animalistic desire wash over my body; I just don't have any more strength to deny her - I need her, I need to _have her, _right here, in this bathroom stall, and fuck the rest. I press my mouth to hers in a passionate, rough kiss, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth, making her whimper while she clings onto me, her smooth legs wrapped around my torso while I hold her against the wall.

I make a wet path of kisses and licks down her neck to her chest, sucking on the exposed bits of her skin in a way that it'll make her whimper, but won't mark her, so that _he _won't know of my presence there; roughly, I support her against me with one hand while the other tugs the cleavage of her dress down, moaning as I see that she isn't wearing a bra.

"You're so fucking hot." I growl before leaning in and taking her exposed nipple into my mouth, wetting it with saliva and making it turn red from all the blood pumping there. She whimpers and runs her fingers on my hair, tugging on it harshly and bucking against me.

"Fuck me, Finn." She whines. "N-no time for this, _fuck me now._"

Though I'm not sure how, in a matter of seconds, my pants are down my ankles and I'm pulling her panties down, my cock pulsating and twitching for her. She looks beautiful, like a goddess - her lips swollen and red, her breathing harsh and swallow and her eyes dark, searching for me. I ask her about a condom and she tells me she's on the pill and that's all I need, sliding into her with no further warning, making her cry out and dig her red nails into my back along with her calves while I penetrate her again and again, hard and fast, her back hitting against the stall repeatedly, making it bounce with the force of our love making - but why call it that, when that is obviously not what we're doing - we're fucking, fucking like animals in heat.

She is whimpering, her mouth hanging open, her pussy wet and clenching around my cock while I slip into her easily, my low moans making shivers form on her skin, I can smell the sex in here, the sweat, the need and I don't care, I just pound into her harder, faster, just like she wants me, just like she's begging me to do it. I can feel the sweat dripping down my eyebrows and my neck, I feel her nails marking my back even through my shirt and it hurts, but I want it, we can't stop now - I wouldn't dream of stopping, really.

She asks me, no, _begs_ for me to touch her and immediately, I get the message, reaching for her swollen clit with my thumb, rubbing it up and down and in tight circles, making the pressure run through her whole body, loud moans leaving her mouth. I tell her to shut up, we can't get caught, but she just whines that it feels _too good, oh Finn, it's too good! _And so I fuck her harder, this time placing my mouth over hers, tangling our tongues together so that she won't get louder. She whines, whimpers, begs and cries for me, telling me to help her come, _make me come, Finn, make me come, yes, please, I need it _and I need her too, so without any other words, I slide into her as I touch her clit, marking a rhythm and that seems to get her to clench around me, finally reaching her peek; she is tight, wet and clenching, her orgasm dripping down my cock and I can't stand it either, so I come inside of her, _fuck, Rachel, ohhh, _ with her milking me until my last drop leaves my member.

As the aftershocks go by, she slides away from me, dropping my soft member out of her and adjusts her dress, reaching for a piece of toilet paper and cleaning herself, handing one for me as well. We're silent, strangers, and before I can speak, she walks through the door, leaving me there, alone and confused.

**xXx**

As I arrive back at the table, I see Rachel chatting rapidly with Malcom, while Santana watches her with a bored expression, sipping on her drink.

"So it turns out that there was something wrong with my salad, and that's why I spent so much time in the bathroom! I had to throw it all up. My stomach hurts a lot, too." She pouts, nearly the picture of innocence, but I know better. I sit by Santana and smile tightly, sighing in relief as I realize that no one seems to know about mine and Rachel's um, encounter, in the bathroom.

Malcom runs a hand up and down his back smoothly, comforting her. "It's okay Rachie," I think _I'm _going to be sick. "We'll drive you home, okay? C'mon." He leans in and tries to kiss her, but her hand instantly flies to her mouth, her eyes wide.

"No!" She screeches, probably because her mouth still tastes like mine and we wouldn't want that. "B-bad breath, remember? Just threw up." She giggles nervously.

"Um, right." Malcom nods, getting up and throwing some money at the table, exchanging looks with Santana. "Well, I better get going! Rachel needs to feel her best for her performances tomorrow, right Tana?" He chuckles and the Latina winks back.

"You betcha!" She grins. "Take care, kiddo."

Rachel nods, pretending to pout, resting her hand on her stomach. "I will, thanks Tana." She sighs. "Bye! Bye, Finn." She turns to me and gives me a strong, meaningful look, though I'm not sure what she wants to tell me through it. She mouths something to me but I don't catch her words and before I can ask her what's wrong, she's already being dragged away by a very talkative and worried Malcom, who leads her to the front door.

After the golden couple leaves, Santana gets up from her seat and excuses herself, telling me she has to use the ladies room. I tell her its fine and brush it off; the waiter comes and asks if I want anything else, so I tell him that just the bill would be fine and even though Santana is not back yet, the bill is already resting on the table. It's funny how these restaurants can be slow when it comes to the food, but the bill, they bring in seconds.

I check the bill and put some money on the table, hoping that it covers for everything I've eaten for the night. As I hand the waiter the money, he grabs something in his pocket and hands it to me. I frown.

"What's this?" I ask, examining the paper - it's white and has a neat handwriting on it.

"A young lady left you this note, sir, right before she left." The waiter informs me with a slight grin on his face.

I examine the piece of paper while talking to the waiter. "The Latina? She hasn't left yet, I-"

"No, no." He waves his hands in the air. "The one who left with the young man." He raises a suggestive eyebrow at me, almost like he knows what happened in the bathroom between Rachel and I, making me blush deeply.

I read the well written words, biting my lip, trying to hold back a smile. The words _"Call me! Xo, Rach."_ are written along with a cellphone number.

I turn to the waiter and gulp deeply. "A-anything else?"

The waiter shakes his head with a grin, turning around and getting ready to leave, but before he does so, he turns back and snaps his fingers.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot!" He says. "She said that if she _feels sick_ again, she'll be sure to ask you for _help_." And with that, he leaves.

I see Santana returning to the table and sitting in front of me with a slight smile on her lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" She asks while running her eyes on the bill.

"Oh, no." I smirk. "That wasn't bad _at all_."

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**A/N: Hope you liked the smut and the chapter. Fun fact: Malcom was actually supposed to be Brody, but since I've hated him from the beginning – oh, like you haven't, either – I decided to use someone else. Poor Malcom isn't going to know what hit him. Review!  
**


	5. My Pussy Tastes Like Pepsi Cola

******Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters.**

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_I don't know how it happens, but suddenly I wake up on a living room, lying on the couch with the TV on, a football game on it. I frown as I don't remember how I got there, so I get up and head towards the nearest room of the apartment - the kitchen; and as I hear noise coming from there, I assume Puck or Sam are making something to eat, and maybe they know something about how I got to the living room?_

_However, as soon as I spot a small figure leaning on the kitchen counter, I stop dead on my tracks: Rachel is wearing a small, pink apron with nothing underneath it, and even though I'm a sensitive guy and I manage to think with my first head most of the time, the vision is enough to make all the blood in my body rush south and it makes me angry that I'm not able to control my body when it comes to her - when it comes to Rachel, I'm always at her mercy._

_Feeling my eyes on her back, Rachel suddenly turns around, hands on her hips and a beam on her lips as she spots me from across the kitchen. Slowly, she walks towards me, and I can hear heels knocking against the wooden floor of the kitchen as she moves, and even though the idea of someone wearing nothing but an apron and high heels sounds like something from porn, Rachel manages to make it look natural - sexy. Then again, when isn't she sexy?_

_"I was wondering when you'd be up." She finally says as her small hands find my chest, playing with the buttons on my shirt. I gulp loudly and look down at her, the apron offering me quite the generous view down her cleavage. "You've been knocked out for like, two hours. I was starting to get worried, really." She giggles as she tugs on the belt loops of my pants and looks up at me with her warm eyes._

_"Y-yeah, well um, 'bout that... I'm not so sure if I remember how I got here."_

_She raises an eyebrow at me. "What do you mean?" She blinks at me, her mouth twisted into a pretty pout._

_I rub my face, groaning. How to explain this to her? "I don't know, I'm just really confused - you know, like, when you're in a dream and you just sort of appear somewhere? Out of nowhere, you are just... There. It's hard to explain." I wave my hands in the air, motioning to let it go._

_She frowns, placing her warm hand to my forehead. "Poor baby, you're sweating - must be the heat." She blinks. "C'mon, let's get you to sit down." She takes me by the hand and leads me to the living room, sitting me down on an armchair that I've never seen before - come to think of it, the living room looks rather different as well. All my thoughts disappear, however, as I feel Rachel climbing onto my lap and smiling sweetly at me, peaking at me from beneath her long, thick lashes. She leans in and kisses my forehead with her full, rosy lips. Automatically, I shiver under her touch - no one has ever had this power over my body before, I don't know how she does it._

_Apparently, she notices how I shiver and plants another kiss on my skin, this time on my cheek. "Poor baby, you've been working yourself too hard lately. Here," She runs her nails up and down my chest before massaging me softly with her small palms. "I think you could use a rub." I can hear the meaning in her voice and my dick automatically twitches in my boxers - I don't know if it's because of the heat, but suddenly my body feels like it's on fire._

_Rachel, satisfied with my reactions, leans in and presses her delicious lips to mine, her tongue easily sliding into my mouth without permission - not that she needs any, she can gladly stick her tongue down my throat 24/7, as far as I care. We kiss and I manage to get my hands on her hips, gripping her waist tightly and rocking my hips into hers, making her let out a small mewl into my mouth; she stops kissing me and smirks at me, her eyes darker and deeper than before. She begins placing soft kisses down my jawline to my neck, sucking on various spots on my neck, making me groan out her name, she's **such** a tease, this one._

_And just as I'm getting used to the feeling of her lips on my skin, she pulls away and gets off my lap, making me pout childishly. "Ah now, don't you pout." She smirks. "Mama's gonna take good care of you." She says and before I have time to process anything, she sinks down on her knees in front of me and begins undoing the buttons on my pants - man, she's hot. She finally finishes and leans in, taking my zipper between her lips and pulling it down with a smirk, her lustful eyes staring up at me like I'm her favorite meal and **believe me**, she can have me as much as she wants._

_Her hand finds the bulge in my boxers, my pants now down my ankles as she begins rubbing up and down, up and down, making me buck into her small palms. I look down at her with a pleading look in my eyes and she smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Impatient, aren't we?" She says, gripping onto me tighter than before. I moan loudly. "Well, that's okay, I'll help you with that." And before I know it, she is pulling my boxers down my ankles as well, licking my tip slowly, her wet tongue making my hips buck out of the armchair - I did not see that coming._

_"F-fuck." I groan, tangling my fingers in her hair while my other hand rests on her shoulder. She licks me up and down, her dark eyes staring up at me with lust written all over them, she wants me so bad and I can feel it, I can see it in her._

_Finally, she takes me in her wet mouth, it feels velvety and hot and makes me buck into her involuntarily, making more of my length slide into it, my tip hitting her throat - she doesn't seem to mind, as she only begins to slide me into her mouth again, in and out, in and out, her tongue brushing against my swollen skin each time, making me shiver and moan out her name. Her hands find my balls and I can feel my stomach flipping and tightening and that can only mean one thing._

_"R-Rachel, I'm coming." I warn her, but she only nods slightly and begins to suck onto me harder, her tongue twirling around my length faster. I can't hold it any longer, she makes me feel too good, so I let go in her throat and tug harder onto her hair, forcing her head to stay there for a second or two as I spill everything I have in her mouth, shaking as the pleasure waves run through my body._

_My eyelids are heavy, I'm breathing fast and my throat is dry, but as I watch Rachel clean the corner of her mouth with her long fingers and lick the tip of them with a smirk, I know it's all worth it._

_"Woah... T-that was..." I breathe, but I'm not able to come up with anything. She giggles at my muteness, playing with her hair._

_"I know." She then licks her lips, slowly, and moans. "Ohh Malcom, you taste so good." She is so sexy and - hold on. Malcom?!_

_I look down in panic and examine my body - I do look skinnier, my hands are smaller and my legs are way shorter! I run towards the nearest room I can find, luckily, it's the bathroom, and as I stand in front of the mirror, my eyes widen - oh no. I'm Malcom. I'M MALCOM! I touch my way too smooth skin and poke my fatless stomach with a frown, I feel so weird and confused, I wonder how I didn't notice it before - having Rachel sucking my cock like a pro probably has something to do with it._

_"Oh, shit." I breathe heavily, running my fingers through my well-brushed hair. I cringe at the unfamiliar feeling. "Oh fuck, shit! This can't be happening!" I run out of the bathroom, only to find Rachel staring at me, her eyes large in shock as she puts on a shirt - Malcom's shirt. The sight of her in another man's clothes makes me sick in my stomach, but she doesn't seem to mind as she rests her hands on her hips and walks towards me, lacing her arms around my neck - a task that would've been impossible if I were at my regular size._

_"Babe, you okay? You look a little flushed there." She runs her hands on my cheeks and kisses my forehead. "It's okay, c'mon, we'll get you some water and everything will be okay."_

_She sits me down on the kitchen chair and pours me a glass of water while I watch her, my heart flipping wildly in my chest - it hurts to know that this is how she behaves around him, how she feels whenever he's around - she acts like a true girlfriend and not like a girl who earns her money by shaking her naked body on strangers' laps. I wish she'd behave this way around me, Finn, and the thought breaks my heart because I know it's not going to happen, not likely. _

_"Okay, you should drink this," She says, handing me the glass of water with a worried expression. "And then, you'll close your eyes and count to three with me, okay? It'll help you feel better. Alright, drink." I drink the water without questioning her, gulping onto it loudly. She runs her fingers through my hair in the meantime, and I choke down the voice in my head that says that she wouldn't do that if I were Finn. _

_She tells me it's time to count so I close my eyes and hear her voice as she counts. "One..." I breathe in. "Two..." I hold my breath. "Three." I breath out, and when I open my eyes, she's not there anymore._

Everything from Malcom's apartment has vanished and I wake up, sweat dripping down my forehead and chest as I look around, breathing easily as I take in my surroundings - I'm in my room, lying on my bed. It's over, it was just a nightmare. I run my hands on my face and sigh in relief, because _that _was scary as fuck. I decide to get up to get some fresh air so I put on my sweatpants and walk to the kitchen, opening the second drawer - where we keep the plates - and smile as I find a small cigarette package hidden beneath all the dishes - Puck, the fucker, has been trying to quit smoking for two years now, but sometimes, he needs a little relief, and so he keeps this hidden stack here, though Sam and I both know about it. I take one cigarette out of it and throw the package in the garbage - Puck _really _needs to let go of these filthy things.

I light up my cigarette and lean against the balcony, blowing out some smoke as I watch the New York City lights shining bright everywhere - I love the noise, I love the people, everything about this place; doesn't quite feel like home, but it does get pretty close to it.

After I'm done with my cigarette, I throw it out and walk towards the bathroom, brushing my teeth roughly - I don't want to get the taste or the smell of cigarette in my mouth - and head back to my bedroom. As I sit on my bed and look at my bedside table, I breathe out as I see what time it is - 3am. I reach out for my phone and check for any missed calls - three from my mom and one from my step brother, Kurt. Great. However, as I'm about to drop my cellphone on the bedside table again and return to my sleeping state, the phone buzzes, so I reach for it, only to find out that I have a new text message.

_**When can we meet again? I was pretty sure you'd call me by now. - Rachel***  
_

I frown as I read it again and again - this can't be true, can it? I wonder what to text her for a moment before I come up with_ a **How did you get my number? **_

_**I have my ways - so, when? This week has been awful and I really need to let go and relax a little.**  
_

I feel that burning sting on my chest again as I read her message; so that's all I'm good for - letting go and relaxing. You'd think that as a girl who was willing enough to have sex with me in a bathroom stall, she'd at least consider me a friend, right? Not Rachel, it seems. And even though I know it's wrong, even though I know I should be letting her go, ignoring her and never calling her again, I type the words fast and painfully.

_**I'll call you tomorrow with the time and place. Let me go back to sleep.**  
_

And as I save her number on my cellphone, I sigh, feeling like shit. I shouldn't be doing this, giving her reasons to play with me, because I know it's wrong - not only is she seeing someone, but she also doesn't give a fuck about my emotions (if Puck heard me right now, he'd punch me in the arm and call me a pussy)... But a big part of me, the _lower _part, thinks that I can't go by another week without having her again. And I know that part is right.

**xXx**

We agree to meet in my apartment on a late afternoon - we can't meet at her place because of Malcom, he likes to hang out there whenever she's home - and she tells me to buy us something to eat and decent boxers because my last ones were stained and they turn her off (and though we both agree that her statement wasn't fair, I had no idea that she'd even see my boxers that day, I buy new boxers anyway because I do need them).

I order Chinese food - vegan for her, loads of chicken for me - and buy some beer for the both of us; I also dress up with my nicest pair of jeans, new socks, the shirt my mom sent me for Christmas and clean shoes; I smell nice, I look nice, food is here - everything's perfect. Now, the only thing missing is Rachel.

At six pm exactly, there's a knock on my door - I rush to open it and smile uneasily as the person who stands behind the door isn't exactly who I was expecting: Santana stands in front of me, her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face as she lets her eyes wander on my body, analyzing me up and down. She licks her lips, throws her dark, heavy hair back and clears her throat.

"Hey, Giant." She smirks, raising an eyebrow at me. "You goin' somewhere?"

I frown. "Uh, no... Why'd you ask that?"

She gestures towards my whole body. "You look all fancy and stuff, and you even smell clean - I figured you were leaving somewhere or something."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks turn red. "N-no, um, actually, I'm waiting for someone."

Her dark eyes widen, just like her smirk. "Ooh, a girl, is it?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me and chuckles. "Good for you, Giant. Good for you." She nods and then stays silent for a moment, until it's too awkward. So she gestures to the elevator and shakes her head. "Um, I should go. I'll come back later, alright? Good luck with your date." She smirks at me and presses the elevator button.

As the door opens, I can feel my knees giving in - Rachel stands there, picking on her nails as if nothing happened. She looks up as she notices that the door opened and smiles brightly at her friend standing in front of her.

"Oh, San, hi!" She says, throwing her arms around Santana and hugging her for a brief moment, her eyes locked with mine while I stare at her, I can read all the questions she wants to ask me from her look, but I decide to look away anyway.

Santana is the first to pull away and raises an eyebrow. "Rachel? What are you doing here? I thought we were only going out tomorrow..." She looks around for a moment, her frown growing. "And this isn't even my floor." She shoots me a dirty look and I swear that her eyebrows raise into her hairline. "_Rachel..._" She sighs, running her fingers through her black hair.

"Relax 'Tana, it's not what you think." She shakes her head. "Finn's friend is having a party next week and needs _entertainment, _and since Finn is such a good guy, he called me to see if I was interested - and of course I said _yes! _I'm just here to talk about the last details, you know how I like to organize my appointments." If Rachel was in need of a job, I'm sure she would be an _amazing _actress; honestly, it's incredible how she manages to get out of every difficult situation with a perfect excuse, right on the right time.

Santana nods, and though I can tell that she has something else to say, she ends up entering the elevator and going back to her place, telling Rachel to step by later, if she wants.

As the Latina disappears, Rachel hurries in my direction, and seconds later, when she's already inside the apartment, she slaps my arm repeatedly, spitting nasty words at me and shoving me on the living room couch, only to straddle me and slap my chest as well.

"Ow, ow, what the _fuck?!" _I hiss, trying to get her off my lap, but she only tightens her legs around my torso and slaps me harder. "Rachel!"

"Don't _Rachel _me, you asshole!" She growls, finally getting off me. I rub my chest with a slight pout as she scoffs, crossing her arms in front of my chest. "You've got a lot of nerve, you know that? First, we hook up, then you don't call me, and when you _do _call me, Santana, who is _my _friend, happens to be leaving your apartment! What, she's not giving up to you or something?"

I roll my eyes at her. "That's rich coming from you, isn't it? You're dating this _Malcom _guy - by the way, what kind of name is that? - and you want me to be 'faithful' to you or whatever? Real nice, Rachel. Real nice."

Her features soften a little and she is now sitting on her side, staring at me with big, brown eyes. "It's not that, you can hook up with anyone you want, get _all _the pussies in New York, I don't care, but..." She bites her lip. "Santana is my friend and she really _is _nice. I don't want to get in the way of what's going on between the two of you, she deserves to have someone who cares for her, Finn."

I love the way she says my name. I turn to her so that I can look at her in the eye. "Nothing is going on between us, Rachel. Santana just happened to drop by a little earlier than you did, that's all."

She raises an eyebrow at me. "You sure?"

I roll my eyes once again. "Why would I lie to you, _really_? Besides, I might be doing _this _with you," I breathe. "But I'm not that guy - if I have a girlfriend, then I'm not going to cheat on her just to get a nice fuck and then pretend nothing happened. That's _Puck's _department, you know." She giggles softly, twirling a piece of her hair on her small finger, her eyes penetrating mine with a powerful gaze. She leans closer and so do I, and before I know it, we're kissing - her tongue slides sensually in my mouth, playing with my tongue as her fingers snake into my hair, tugging on it.

She slides easily to my lap, her legs around my torso as she grinds against me, and I can already feel my jeans getting tighter by the second - she turns me on so quickly -, she tugs on my hair again, her mouth now finding that spot on my neck that drives me insane, it's like she knows how my body works and where to touch me. I feel her breath hot and moist on my ear as she whispers:

"Take me to your bedroom."

I don't need to be told twice, my hands are on her ass as I lead her out of the living room, clumsily bumping my knee against the coffee table, making me wince and earning a giggle from her. As we reach my bedroom, I throw her on the bed and stand between her parted legs, soaking in the sight of her sprawled on the bed and waiting for me, she needs me and I need her as well. She supports herself on her elbows and reaches out for my belt, swiftly undoing it while she smirks up at me, battling her eyelashes at me, her warm palm brushing against my growing erection as I moan her name.

She tugs my pants down once she undoes all the buttons and now, I hover on top of her in my shirt and boxers, staring down at her - she is still fully clothed. I kiss her neck soundly, my tongue making wet paths of saliva on her skin while she wiggles underneath me. I help her out of her dress and smirk down at her, taking in the sight of her standing beneath me in nothing but a pair of black lacy panties - she says the dress didn't require a bra.

I continue to lick, nip and moan into her neck while she runs her manicured nails up and down my back, bucking her hips into mine. "Finn?" She asks while I'm sucking on her neck, our chests brushing against each other's, making me growl out in pleasure.

"Hmm?" I ask, though I'm only half listening, since I'm too occupied with my current task.

"Could you, um..." I feel her skin heating up. "Not leave a mark?" She asks and the last part comes out so quietly that I can barely hear it.

I pull away instantly, frowning at her with a confused expression written all over my face. "What?"

"It's just... I don't... I don't want Malcom to see it." She looks away and there's that pain in my chest again, burning through me. I nod silently, attaching my lips back to her neck, but not sucking on it this time, just running my tongue up and down her neck. "B-but maybe you could... Leave a mark somewhere else?" She blushes, biting her lip and pulling away from me, staring up at me while I grin down at her.

"Yeah?" She nods, spreading her legs wider for me. I begin kissing my way down her throat, licking on the skin of her breasts as I find them, her nipples erect and evident in front of me, and I don't resist it, nibbling on them and kissing each one slowly, taking my time with her body. She shivers under my touch, bucking her hips against my chest with a whine and a faint _Finn _coming out of her mouth, honestly, she might be enjoying this a lot, but not as much as I am - she tastes so sweet.

I slide my hands down her panties while my lips rest on her stomach, tickling her bellybutton with my tongue while she bucks into me, needing more. The heat and wetness inside her panties is unbearable, so I brush my thumb against her swollen clit, feeling her breathing while I slide my index finger in her folds, playing with the wetness that rests there - she's so ready for me, so needy, so perfect. As I slide a second finger inside of her, she grips my hair tightly and begins to shove my head downer, making me realize what she truly wants: my mouth.

She spreads her legs wider while I drag my tongue on her inner thighs, reaching her core, only to plant a soft kiss on her covered folds and move my mouth to her other thigh, nibbling on the skin of her legs. Rachel grips the sheets tightly and protests with whines of frustration, and that does it for me - I lean in and kiss her inner thighs while my index fingers are hooked inside her panties, pulling them down slowly, my mouth watering at the sight of her wet pussy, she needs me _so badly_.

Before I know what I'm doing, I automatically find her clit, my tongue flicking it repeatedly, teasing it again and again, making her hips buck out of the bed. I lace both of my arms around her hips then, not only for support, but to be sure that she will stay still while I work with her. She laces her fingers in my hair, her nails teasing my scalp while she bucks into my face, needing more of me, more of my mouth. I get the message and immediately decide to change my plans, latching on her clit with my wet lips while I slide two fingers inside of her folds, moaning at the sound of our skins touching.

"You taste so fucking sweet." I mumble into her, sucking harder onto her clit. "Like fucking strawberries."

She lets out a husky giggle while she forces more of my face inside of her, murmuring a faint _"deeper"_ and making me growl, letting go of her clit and replacing my mouth with my thumb, pressing against it while my tongue slides into her folds, licking up everything she has to offer. She lets out a loud, long moan while I sloppily lick her wetness, my nose brushing against her clit every now and then and before I know it, her walls are tightening around my fingers while she comes, gushing her orgasm all over my face, making me lick every drop of it, licking her dry.

When I pull away from her, she is left panting with a huge smirk on her lips, her fingers caressing my hair while I lay on her stomach, feeling it rising and falling as she breathes.

After a minute or two of silence, I pull away and look up at her, trying to read her expression - she is staring at me blankly, her eyes deep and dark as she bites onto her lower lip.

"Your turn." She says simply, laying me on my bed and climbing on top of me, her mouth trailing a path of kisses down my neck.

It's safe to say that we spend the rest of the afternoon and a big part of that night in the bedroom, rolling around on my bed.

**xXx**

Two days after that afternoon with Rachel, I'm going through my stuff when I find something lying on my bedroom floor and as I hold it on my large palm, I smirk - _she forgot her panties with me_. I shove them down my pockets and run my fingers through my hair, checking myself in the mirror - I _do _look good today, maybe the fact that I was thoroughly fucked by the hottest chick on the planet two days ago has something to do with it.

I grin to my reflection as I remember that I have a _date _- or whatever it is - with Rachel today, at her apartment. She says that Malcom will have classes all day long so he won't be bothering us and that her bed is bigger, not to mention she'll let me choose whatever I want for her to wear if we meet there, and really, how am I supposed to say no to _that_?

I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket but as I reach into it and read the screen, I roll my eyes - another text from Rachel. She has been sending me those all day long, telling me what to wear, what to bring and it's honestly driving me crazy, so I decide to ignore it, in order to keep calm and manage to have a nice evening with her. I get in my car and drive to the adress she sent me last night - I like that about her, too, how organized and tidy she is, she's always planning everything she does and that is a nice quality, for me, at least.

As I finally reach her building, I take the bouquet I bought her from the backseat of my car and dig my keys in my pockets, locking the car and heading inside. I press on the elevator button and shrug off the weird feeling I'm getting as an old lady stares at me up and down, a sweet smile on her wrinky lips. I get in the elevator and press the fifth and the third floor - because one is the old lady's floor and the other is Rachel's, and after she leaves, I sigh in relief, turning around to check myself on the mirror once again, making sure everything is on it's right place. I leave the elevator as I reach my floor and walk towards Rachel's front door, ringing the doorbell once and standing in front of the door with a shaky smile on my lips, I just can't wait to see her.

But instead of seeing Rachel's gorgeous brown eyes, I meet cold, blue eyes and before I register what's going on, I see Malcom standing in front of me, a frown on his face as he looks at me.

"Um, hi." He says and I can feel the coldness in his voice. "Finn, right?"

Fuck, shit, _fuck_. "Y-yeah, um, hi, hello." I gulp loudly, playing with the collar of my shirt.

His frown deepens. "What are you doing here?" Suddenly, his confusion goes always and annoyance takes over his face. "And whose flowers are _those_?" He raises a neat eyebrow at me, his blue eyes piercing through me, making me uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure he is seconds away from punching me when Rachel appears behind him, her smile shaky and nervous as she greets me, lacing her arms around Malcom's waist.

"Finn, hi!" She says a bit too cheerfully. "I'm glad you've finally made it! We've been expecting you!"

"You have?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

"We have?" Malcom spits, turning away from me for a moment to stare at Rachel blankly.

"Malcom dear, don't be rude, of course we have!" She rolls her eyes at me. "Come in, Finn!"

"I-I'm not sure if I should... Um, I've got, um, stuff to do."

Malcom nods. "Yeah, you should go then."

"Malcom!" Rachel shrieks. "Finn is here to see _her._" She shakes her head, motioning to the living room. "She's on the couch, Finn, come on in."

I don't know who is _she _but certainly, anything is better than standing in the middle of the hall with a very angry Malcom staring at me. As I walk into their apartment, I lay my eyes on the couch, only to find Santana there, running her eyes on a fashion magazine, a bored expression on her face; and as soon as I walk in, she notices my presence and looks up at me with a beam on her lips. "Finn, what are you doing here?"

I gulp, opening my mouth multiple times, trying to say something, but nothing seems to come out.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same thing." Malcom spits through his teeth, eyeing me with disgust.

"Well, let _me _explain." Rachel smiles and clears her throat. "As I thought you wouldn't be spending the afternoon home, dear, I decide to invite Santana and Finn over so that we could watch some movies, pop some popcorn, etc, but as soon as I got your text message saying that your _classes had been canceled,_" She looks at me with a certain gaze, almost like she's explaining to me why he is home. "it was too late and San was already on her way, and I did try to cancel with Finn, but he said that he _really _wanted to come find Santana, and now I know why." She motions towards the bouquet in my hands and I clear my throat, raising an eyebrow at her. "Well, Finn..." She says, looking at me sweetly and pointing at Santana, who has a blank look on her face. "Don't you have something you'd like to say to her?"

And finally, I understand what she wants me to do - but I won't do it, I don't wanna do it, I don't even like Santana that way... I mean, sure, she's really attractive and has an amazing humor, but she is just not what I'm looking for in a girl. But as Rachel looks at me, her eyes pleading in silence for mercy, I know that this is the only way I'll be able to continue with whatever we have, so I before I can overthink this, I walk towards Santana and smile down at her, shoving the bouquet on her face.

"Santana..." I clear my throat. "Will you go out with me?"

She is looking at me in a way that makes me feel like I've grown a second head or something, but she takes the bouquet in her hands and holds it to her chest. She sniffs on the flowers and smiles up at me, a sweet expression on her face. "I'd love to, Giant."

What? Wasn't she supposed to turn me down or something? I look at her with wide eyes and my jaw is hanging down. "I- what, you will?"

She laughs. "Don't act so surprised - you _are _good looking, and pretty nice, too. I'd llove to go out with you again."

I smile shakily, rubbing the back of my neck. "I-I, really? I mean, great, that's-that's great, woah, yeah, um... Okay." I feel so confused.

She then looks at Rachel, a smirk on her lips. "And you knew about this?"

Rachel smiles uneasily. "Of course I did. I told you I'd get back at you for playing matchmaker with me and Malcom!" She giggles in a way that makes it sound like a shriek and though I don't want to show nervousness, I can feel the sweat dripping down my forehead, this wasn't supposed to be happening.

Santana walks to Rachel and wraps her arms around her neck, burying her face in her neck and giggling. "Oh, this is awesome!" She says, looking between the four of us. "Yeah, I mean, first, Malcom asks Rachel to move in with him and now this? What a day, huh?" She raises an eyebrow at me. "Isn't that great, Finn?" She says my name a bit pointely, but I nod with a smile, swallowing down all the information while I feel Rachel's stare burning through me.

Rachel is moving in with _Malcom?  
_

_"Y-yeah." _I whisper. "Great, it's great." I manage to smile, ignoring the warm pain in my chest, making me feel like I've just been punched again and again until I bleed.

"Well, we should leave these two alone, Lord knows that it only takes two seconds of them being alone before they're pouncing on each other!" Santana laughs. "Besides, Finn is going to give me a ride home, we both live on the same building," She tells Malcom with a smile. "And who knows, maybe we could start planning our date on the way?" She smirks at me, playing with a stray of her hair. I smile.

"Y-yeah, okay." She takes my arm and leads me out of the apartment, pressing the elevator button while squeezing my bicep, smiling up at me. I try my best to return the smile before I turn around and find Rachel staring at me from the door, Malcom's arms around her waist while she looks at me, her eyes sad and cold, nothing like what they were when we were at my bedroom. She shoots me an apologetic look and mouths a soft _"sorry" _before she walks inside with Malcom, smiling shakily as he kisses her cheek before shutting the door.

I look blankly at the elevator door, trying to sink in all the information that I've received in last that ten minutes: Rachel and I almost got caught, Malcom and Rachel are moving in together, Rachel seems to be sad about all of this and somehow, I manage to get myself a date with Santana.

I rub my face with my large hands and sigh tiredly: It's going to be a _long, long _week.

* * *

**A/N: As you can see, Malcom's character is going to be appearing more often now, and so will Santana; and if you're wondering why was she so OOC on the last part, don't worry, everything will clear out on the nex chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! Review!**


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